


Tom's Guide to Jerboa Care and Handling

by Grimreaperchibi



Series: Amnesia AU [2]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Overstimulation, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-05-05 14:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14620545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimreaperchibi/pseuds/Grimreaperchibi
Summary: A comprehensive guide on how to care for your quasi-evil genius boyfriend when said boyfriend remembers nothing of the previous eight years. Tom really got in over his head with this one.





	1. Chapter 1

 

_Since jerboas can be quite shy, it's important to take your time when handling them._

* * *

Tom grinned, enjoying the way Tord whined and shifted against him, like he didn't know whether to press back into the hand teasing him or rock forward to get more friction between their hips. Before getting into a relationship, Tom would have sworn he wasn't much of a sadist. Damned if having Tord sprawled over the top of him, rutting against him and moaning like he was dying in the best way possible didn't make Tom want to tease the other indefinitely, until he was almost in tears from desperation and maybe a little longer. It really did take so little to tease out those breathy noises, make pale skin flush, leave Tord a squirming, panting mess eager for more.

It was probably a bit aggressive for a couple barely past the first stages of intimacy. Tord was quite body shy, still trying to come to terms with the scarring the Accident (TM) had left him with. As such, the majority of their encounters consisted of just grinding against each other. They hadn't done much more than jerking each other off a couple of times. Tord had gotten brave once and given Tom a blowjob. Tom had managed to return the favor twice. Despite the hesitance, though, the first time Tom had managed to slide his hands around Tord's ass, the other had turned into mewling mush. It hadn't been anything too terribly forward, but it had lit Tord up like a goddamn Christmas tree.

And thus, Tom had found his new favorite pastime.

They both were still nearly fully clothed. Their hoodies had been tossed aside. Tord's long sleeved shirt had partially ridden up to expose part of his lower back and stomach. With pants unzipped and open with only a thin dual layer of underwear keeping their erections from actually touching, it was the closest they'd been to fully undressed with each other ever. Tord had buried his face into Tom's collarbone, one hand kneading at Tom's shirt while the other clutched desperately to the arm that was teasing him. He was panting at a decent pace, not a frantic pull for air, but elevated all the same and with enough breath left over to moan and whine whenever Tom's fingers moved. Tom could feel each tremble and shiver, how hard and hot Tord was against him, the way that ring of muscle he kept idly tracing twitched, like it couldn't tell if it wanted the intrusion or not.

"Ah, Tom..." Tord's hands spasmed as that probing finger pushed in slightly, hips lifting, back arching, and knees spreading as he tried to get it to do more. "Thomas, please~"

"Please what?" Tom purred, beyond thrilled when another, more prominent shiver raced through Tord.

Tord groaned, burying his face into Tom's shirt, which only made Tom grin wider. It was quite endearing how someone who had a known porn addiction could be so bashful about the act itself. Even discounting the weirder things and physical impossibilities of most things that tended to show up in hentai, the basics were still the same. And where Tord could shamelessly stare at drawn representations, practical application left him blushing and stuttering.

Then again, making Tord blush was half the fun, so it all worked out in the end.

Speaking of flustering his boyfriend, Tord mumbled something, "please" being the only word not to get lost in the fabric he was currently hiding in.

"What was that?" Tom prompted when nothing else was forthcoming.

"PleaseIwantyouinme," came out in one quick rush.

"I am in you." To prove his point, Tom pulled his finger back only to press it in again a bit further. Tord muffled his cry in Tom's chest as he jerked hard and kept going, little movements he didn't seem to be aware of making.

“I--! No--!" Tord broke off with a whine, curling into himself. "I--I want you to--to fuck me," he stuttered out, lifting his head just enough to meet Tom's gaze. He was beet red with embarrassment, but Tord soldiered on anyway. "Please, Tom. Sp-split me apart with--with your big cock, m-make me cum while you--you pound into me, leave me a- _ah_ -a dripping mess...”

Tom stilled, equally surprised by both the string of bad porn come-ons and the implications there in. It took a minute to process the sheer shock before Tom even got to understanding the words themselves. The uncomprehending look on his face must have been taken as refusal because suddenly, Tord was pulling away, eyes downcast as he started muttering apologies. Tom tightened his hold, arms moving to wrap around the other's waist before he consciously thought about doing so.

Tord pushed a bit, testing the grip that kept him there, but gave up quickly when it proved unrelenting. He laid back down, stiff and studious about not looking at Tom. "...forget I said anything..."

Feeling his heart sink, Tom hugged Tord tightly. It had been so long since the other had sounded that defeated, and Tom liked it even less now than he had then.

"Do I even get to say something first?" he asked, then sighed when Tord gave a noncommittal shrug. "Look, I'm allowed to be a little surprised here. You get flustered whenever I take my shirt off to go shower, let alone when we're making out, and you never take anything off in front of me. You let me grab your ass while you move against me, but you're not really into anything else. You're sorta okay with handjobs, barely okay with blowjobs, and now you want me to skip straight into screwing you senseless? Give me a minute to catch up, okay?"

When Tord nodded and relaxed some, Tom relaxed as well. Taking the time to get his thoughts in order, Tom finally asked, "So what exactly brought this on. Why the sudden jump, huh?"

The blush that had been receding from Tord's skin flared back to life, even brighter than before. It was almost the same colour as his shirt. "I--" He cut himself off with a frown. "I want to do more with you," he said slowly, like he had to push the words past some unseen barrier. "It feels good, what we do now. All of it, not just--just this. Sometimes... Sometimes it's too good; it becomes overwhelming. And I like that it--you--can overwhelm me, but I..." Tord trailed off with an awkward sigh. "I cannot help but think you should be doing such things with someone else," he finished quietly.

For the second time in as many minutes, Tom could only stare blankly, knowing he'd heard words, but unable to gather any meaning from them. "...Tord, just because it took me getting drunk to actually kiss you the first time doesn't mean I was using you to fill in for someone else. You do know that, right?"

Tord's head popped up in surprise. "What? No. I mean yes, I know that. I haven't ever really thought otherwise."

"Then why should I be doing this with someone else?"

"Because..." Tord dropped his gaze again. "Because I only half remember my own life. Because this is nothing like my manga or movies and I have no idea what to do," he admitted, voice growing softer as he talked until it could barely be heard at the end. "Because these scars make me ugly and disgusting. Do I really have to go on...?"

And third time was the charm. "Holy hand grenade of Antioch. You're a virgin."

That earned him a glare. "Thank you, Thomas. Please announce it a little louder. I don't think our neighbors heard you."

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about, you know," Tom continued, ignoring the outburst. "This is all new territory for me, too."

"It's not embarrassment. It's not just embarrassment," Tord amended when Tom raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "It's frustration, as well; I don't know. So many things feel like I should know, but I don't, and I...it feels like I'm lying to you somehow."

"Does it really matter?" Tom reached up to cup Tord's cheek when the other tried to turn away. "Hey, I'm serious here. Does it really matter if you spent every night with a different girl, or if alternating weekends and holidays were with some guy, or even if you've never done it at all? Because I don't give half a hoot about any of it. You're with me. Here. Now. And this is our first everything. I think that matters a bit more than what may or may not have happened in the past."

A small, but fond smile made an appearance as Tord relaxed once more. "You know, sometimes you can be amazingly romantic," his smile quirked teasingly, "for a bowling ball."

"A bowling ball you just begged to, what was it, 'split you apart with my big cock'?" Tord flushed and looked away while Tom chuckled. "Aw, come on, commie," he drawled, drawing Tord's face back around. "Just because I missed a step somewhere in this dance doesn't mean I'm not interested in following through with it." He rolled his hips up, proving that despite the interlude, he was still quite hard. Tord moaned, eyes rolling closed as he pressed back.

Since Tom's hand was already so close, it seemed only natural to let his thumb move the little bit necessary to slide it across Tord's lower lip. With another breathy moan, those stupidly kissable lips parted, letting the tip of Tord's tongue flicker across the finger pad. It shouldn't have been sexy, but Tom felt a jolt of lust anyway, prompting him to press his thumb into Tord's mouth. Grey eyes cracked open and Tord started panting softly as Tom caressed his tongue slowly in return. Then it was Tom's turn to moan when Tord's tongue undulated, drawing the digit further in before his mouth closed around it.

And holy fuck, if Tord could make his finger feel that good, Tom was pretty sure he was going to die the next time Tord got brave enough to go down on him.

Tord let go of his thumb with a roll of his tongue that sent a shiver down Tom's spine. He then had the audacity to use that same tongue to lick his own lips, drawing attention to how pink and soft they looked. So perfect for bruising. Tom pulled Tord up, bringing their mouths together again. The move caught Tord off guard, but he pushed into it soon enough, returning the nips and lazy explorations until Tom got both his hands down the back of Tord's pants. Fingers stretching wide in a greedy attempt to claim the maximum amount of area, Tom latched on to the firm muscles of Tord's ass and pulled him down while thrusting up. The effect was immediate; Tord arched with a half cry, breaking the kiss as he tried press their hips even closer together. From there, all Tom had to do was slowly knead his hands to make Tord ride against him at the pace he wanted.

"God, you're so beautiful," Tom breathed, enthralled with the way the other moved above him. Tord whined in a way that had nothing to do with pleasure and shied away, purposefully twisting to hide his scarring.

And now that he knew exactly why Tord kept doing that, it wasn't something Tom was going to let linger any longer.

It didn't take much to roll them over, though Tord blinked at the change in position. "You sure you want to do this?" Tom asked, watching carefully for any sign of hesitance or discomfort.

A little bit of hesitance, but a firm answer. "...Yes."

"That means taking off your clothes."

More trepidation and visible nerves now. Tord didn't break eye contact when he answered. "I know. Tom, please," he interrupted before Tom could say more. "The more you question, the more I will over-think, and then I won't be able to do this." He reached up and stroked a hand over Tom's cheek. "I want to do this with you, I want this connection to you. Let me do this before I lose my nerve again."

Tom turned his head to press a kiss to Tord's palm. "If you get uncomfortable, tell me."

When Tord gave a solemn nod, Tom leaned down and kissed him, easy and thorough, one hand cupping his jaw while the other slid down his side, searching for the hem of his shirt. Tord gave a little start when fingers brushed over his stomach, but remained more interested in their kiss than what those fingers were doing. Once sure the other was totally distracted, Tom started sliding his hand up. This time Tord whimpered in the back of his throat.

"Shh," Tom soothed, whispering kisses across Tord's jaw while rubbing gentle circles into skin with his thumb. "You're okay. Everything's okay. I've got you."

Tord wrapped his arms around Tom's neck when he went back ravishing his mouth, this time pushing back in an obvious attempt to keep himself distracted. Normally, Tom would have backed off; he didn't want Tord to force anything, even a kiss. Except it served his purpose this time. And Tord had agreed to say something if he got too uncomfortable. Tom would just have to trust that the other wouldn't get stubborn about it.

Instead, he focused on slowly and steadily working his hand up, gathering the shirt material as he went until he reached the point where Tord would have to sit up to remove it. He stayed there a minute, once more engrossed with kissing the soft mouth attached to his own before pulling back. Tord tried to follow, only to flop back into the pillows with a dazed look on his flushed face.

"You still okay?" Tom asked while Tord came back to Earth.

"Ye--yes," he panted before taking a deeper breath and settling. "Yes. I'm okay."

Tom nodded and sat back, tugging at the shirt he'd been gathering up. It took a minute, long enough that Tom almost called everything off, before Tord arched and rolled his shoulders to help the material slide off. As it pulled free, Tord turned his face, partially hiding behind his arm even has he bashfully watched for Tom's reaction. It didn't escape Tom's notice that Tord had turned to the right, once more trying to hide his scars.

At least Tord was still looking at him, even if it was from the cover of his arm. Tom carelessly tossed the shirt to the side before stripping off his own, letting it join the other. Fair was fair, after all. Then he picked up Tord's right hand and starting placing careful kisses along each knuckle.

There was a hitch in Tord's breathing when Tom started kissing the large and still fragile looking scar that ran from the back of his hand, up his wrist, and curled around his lower forearm. He took his time to let his lips trace over every little bit of it and the dozen lacerations that intersected with it at some point. A splash of waxy white burn scars danced between the lines, leading up to the still pink burn that branded his upper forearm and the other two slices that neatly cut across everything to framed his elbow. There were a series of long scars curled around his bicep, spiraling up to his shoulder and the large burn that dripped down from there.

Tord's breathing picked up the further up Tom got, muscles twitching under the attention. He never pulled his arm away, however, watching the whole thing with a mixture of fascination and uncertainty.

More splotches of pink and white dotted across Tord's shoulder, chest, and the side of his neck, interspersed between varying lengths of cross hatch marks that ran through the same stretch of skin. All of it was a stark counterpoint to the much larger stripe of red that cut across his collarbone and down his chest; the first of two that had required actual sutures to close again. Tom pressed a kiss to each and every little bit of mottled and disrupted skin there was, sometimes even letting his tongue trace the ridges that had formed. Tord moaned when Tom's lips found his neck, licking and nipping at the sensitive spot just above the junction with his shoulder. Tom didn't stay there like he usually did. After a slow lick to the thudding vein in his throat, Tom continued up to the scars on Tord's face.

Three major ones tiger striped his cheek, only slightly less ready to split and spill the redness inside them than most of the others, along with another half dozen cuts and white freckles that trailed all the way up the side of his face. Tom gently licked at the scar that could have so easily taken Tord's eye, following it back until he could start lavishing attention on the notched and uneven edge of Tord's ear.

"You're so damn beautiful," Tom breathed. Tord whined, arching up while his hands kneaded at Tom's sides. Tom pressed another series of kisses to the smooth pink patch just a little bit down and behind said ear. "I know you don't think so, but that's okay. I'll just have to show you. I'll show you over and over again, until you believe me..."

Tom started working his way back down, retracing his steps all across Tord's shoulder before starting to work down the one that cut into his chest. Tord whined again, hands coming up to grip Tom's shoulders like he meant to push the other away, only to suck in a sharp breath instead when Tom took a slight detour to mouth at the hard pink nub that was so close by. Judging by the hand that was suddenly in Tom's hair, holding him close while the other clawed down his back, Tord approved of the sensation. Tom kept up the attention until Tord was nothing but trembling jelly under him. And then because he couldn't pay attention to only one side, Tom switched to the other nipple, making sure to give it the same loving care he'd shown the first.

Having once more secured Tord's interest, Tom continued down, tracing over the only major scar that adorned Tord's left side. It was both cleaner and less traumatic than any other he bore, running along his ribcage for a hand span and just deep enough to leave behind a lasting mark. There was no way to know for certain, but Tom suspected it hadn't been inflicted by the robot's fall. No, he was fairly certain it had come from the harpoon he'd fired in a moment of rage and desperation. It was such an innocuous thing compared to the rest of the damage, but a firm reminder that if his aim had only been a little higher, a little more to the right, the warm body under him wouldn't be there. Tom showed it more love than he did any other scar, as if that could make up for what had almost been, and only stopped when Tord threaded fingers through his hair with a questioning noise.

Kissing across fluttering stomach muscles brought Tom to the next set of angry red lines. The scars down Tord's right side had been mostly taken by his arm, but that only meant the ones on his torso were more dramatic. The majority of damage was confined to burns, leaving the skin marbled pink and white with still bloody looking lines shot through it. The one what was by far the worst injury, and the other wound that had required help closing, ran from just below Tord's shoulder blade, down and around his ribs, before finally ending just above his hip. Two other scars arced across it, taking up most of the soft space between ribs and hip while a third one cross cut back up into his chest. Tom took his time, making sure that the area was thoroughly covered in kisses and loving licks, delighted that Tord kept moaning softly as he worked his way towards his secondary objective.

As he had with Tord's shirt, Tom's fingers stealthily slipped under the waistband of the pants that blocked any further ventures south. He peeled the fabric down just far enough to get to the soft spot on the inside of Tord's hipbones. The first few kisses were met with restless shifting and a breathy noise of pleasure, much like when Tom attached himself to the other's neck. That prompted him to suck at the spot as well. This time, Tord arched up off the bed with an enthusiastic cry even has his hand tightened in Tom's hair, holding him to the spot. Tom gladly continued to lave and nibble and suck until he was sure a bruise would form there before giving the other side the same treatment.

Satisfied with his work, Tom sat back again, waiting for Tord to calm a bit. His hands traced back up and down Tord's sides, rubbing soothingly as they went.

"Breathe," he said, pleased when the other drew in a much better inhale than the frantic tiny pulls that did nearly nothing. "That's it. One more..." Tord relaxed into the bed with the second shaky exhale, glazed eyes opening to look towards Tom once more. Certain the other was mostly coherent again, Tom purposefully tugged at  the waistband of Tord's pants. "You still want this?"

Tord choked on an embarrassed noise and lifted his hips. "Vær så snill... Please...? Please, Tom..."

If Tord was far gone enough to slip into his mother tongue, Tom wasn't going to argue about sincerity. He pulled while Tord twisted, trying to help with the removal of the offending clothes. Jeans and underwear were tossed aside with the same care and ceremony as their shirts had been. Then Tom took a minute to just look down at his boyfriend, all splayed out in front of him like one of those damn comics Tord had taken to reading. Only this picture was infinitely more arousing than any of those images could hope to be. Tom ran his hands possessively along now bare thighs, taking the opportunity he'd never really had before to feel out and explore the new territory. With the way he had crash landed, Tord didn't bear much scarring on his legs--most of it had been confirmed to some nerve damage and aching joints. There were three rough ones, however, that curved around his thigh from where he'd gotten caught on something; probably the harness that had slowed his tumbling enough that Tord hadn't added broken bones to his injury list. Tom got distracted by kissing along the creamy soft skin of Tord's inner thigh until a frustrated groan pulled his attention back to task at hand.

With one last parting kiss, Tom slid off the bed, shedding his own pants before digging through the nightstand drawer for the bottle of lube and condom he'd thrown in there a while back. Tord looked less aroused and more nervous when he crawled back onto the bed, but let Tom settle between his legs easily enough. The pop of the cap seemed inordinately loud as Tom squeezed some of the gel into his hand. After making sure his fingers were well coated, he shifting forward again, leaning over Tord .

"Still okay?" Tord nodded vigorously, like he didn't trust his voice to make the right sound. "Tell me if something doesn't feel right."

Any lost arousal Tord might have had surged back visibly when Tom started working the first finger in. Grey eyes went wide with a gasp as the intrusion went further than it had ever gone before. Tom stilled, waiting until the reflexive clenching settled down, then started slowly sliding in and out. The movement was met with an eager response, though Tom somewhat suspected Tord was making more out of it than he was really feeling. Still, nothing about the display indicated any sort of discomfort, so he moved on to the second finger. This time there was a sharper edge to Tord's panting. Tom stilled again until Tord gave an encouraging roll of his hips. It took a little longer this time, but soon enough he was riding against Tom's hand, looking for more.

The third finger was by far the biggest stretch and the first time Tord showed any serious discomfort, eyes screwing shut and jaw clenching as he attempted to breathe through it. Tom tried to adjust so that it wasn't quite so much at once and ended up brushing something that made Tord shout with a whole body jerk. Tom blinked, then slowly curled his fingers again. This time Tord bit his lip to stifle the noise he made. He had a death grip on the blankets beneath him as he shivered from head to toe.

Oh. Oh, so that's what the big deal was about. He could work with this...

Tom continued to intermittently tease that spot until he was sure Tord was feeling nothing but pleasure. A soft whine of disapproval met the withdrawal of his fingers, but he was calmed quickly with a reassuring kiss before Tom pulled away again. He couldn't help the groan that escaped him as he quickly slicked himself up. Couldn't even remember the last time he'd been so hard. At least his hands stayed steady enough for him to slip the condom on without too much difficulty; that would have been beyond frustrating at this point. Another generous squirt of lube made sure everything was nice and slippery. Tom wiped his hand absently on the blankets before shuffling forward the bit needed to pull Tord's hips into his lap. It probably would have been easier in a different position, but Tom wanted to make sure he could see Tord's face during this, to make sure he wasn't hurting the other.

"Ready?" he asked, a bit breathless himself now that they were this far.

"Hnngh...yes. God yes please. Please Tom..."

He really didn't need more encouragement at that point. Carefully lining himself up, Tom started to slowly push forward. Tord's babbled pleas broke with a bitten off mewl, distress once more shadowing his face. The resistance Tom met didn't seem to be giving much despite the prep beforehand. He waited until it seemed like a lost cause and was just about to stop when something relaxed, letting him slip in. Tord made the most erotic sound Tom had ever heard, a noise settling somewhere between a moan and a drawn out sigh that made it damn hard to keep going slow.

They were both panting by the time Tom was fully seated; the way Tord twitched and clenched around him felt better than it had a right to. It was hard to wait patiently, to give the body under him a chance to process and adjust. Tom leaned forward again, stroking Tord's heavily flushed face, trying to make sure the other was still okay. Tord was panting hard, each ending with a soft whine that could have been pleasure as easily as it could have been pain. One of Tord's hands fumbled up and latched onto Tom's arm like it was the last solid thing in the world. When Tom cupped his cheek again, Tord managed to look up at him. His eyes were a bit watery, but still very much glazed over in obvious lust.

This time, Tom didn't have to ask. Rearranging himself so he could move, Tom pulled back as gently as he could. He didn't go far before starting the return slide in. He continued to thrust shallowly until he hit that magic spot again and Tord arched almost completely off the bed once more.

From there, Tom gradually picked up the pace, drawing out each stroke as much as possible if only because it felt so good that he didn't want it to end anytime soon. Under him, Tord was nothing but a mess of half words and overwhelmed noises. He kept switching in and out English, losing his grasp of language quickly, but Tom understood enough to know it was pure encouragement. It whittled away at his control until he found himself shifting Tord's legs up over his shoulders to get better leverage. One of Tord's hands reached up to grip the headboard while the other flew to his mouth, stifling the increasingly louder cries that came with every thrust. Tom wanted to pull that hand away, he wanted to hear all those lovely noises his boyfriend was making, but he was too far gone himself to stop long enough to do anything about it.

It didn't take long after that for the hiccuping cry that was Tord cumming, and cumming hard in this case, splattering across his stomach in long spurts. Tom swore as the muscles surround him clamped down, though it made it that much easier to stop moving while Tord rode out the waves of pleasure. But rather than puddling like Tom was used to, Tord kept trying to move against him, still panting like he hadn't just had the best orgasm of his life.

"Keep going. You too, I want you--" A groan cut off the rest of the sentence. Tom hesitated until another roll of Tord's hips and an unabashed moan convinced him otherwise.

Between Tord's still rather vocal response and the fact he was already so close himself, it wasn't more than a handful of thrusts before Tom swore again, pressing in as far as he could as he came.

For a few blissful seconds, that's all there was to the world; the tight heat that surrounded him, the strong pulse of release, the internal quiet that no amount of alcohol could ever match. He let Tord's legs slide off shoulders in order to brace his hands on the bed, unable to hold himself upright as he panted for breath. Tord reached down, fingers searching. With an unsteady shift in weight, Tom managed to get their hands entwined while they both gradually faded to a comfortable afterglow

When he finally felt coordinated enough to move, Tom brought the hand griping his up, kissing it before letting it go. Tord groaned in a slightly disappointed manner as Tom went about the careful process of separating himself from the still enticingly warm body under him. Making a face at the slimy feeling left behind from the condom, he snagged a towel from the laundry bin after his trip to the trash can. A couple swipes cleaned himself up nicely. Then he helped Tord wipe down as well, though Tord didn't manage to be much help, still too out of it to do more than roll over and out of the way when Tom stripped off the blanket as well. All of it was half-heartedly chucked in the direction of the bin again. It could be dealt with it in the morning.

As soon as Tom settled back into the bed, Tord curled into him like the cat he continued to claim he wasn't, nuzzling and kissing the skin easiest to reach. All that was really missing was the contented purring, which Tom was could almost hear anyway. He chuckled at the thought, pulling the sheet up around them to fight off the fast approaching sweat chill.

"Thank you," Tord murmured after a few minutes of just breathing and holding one another.

"What?" No other modifier showed up to indicate what he was being thanked for, so Tom went with the first response that came to mind. "I didn't do much of anything."

"You did more than you know."

Tom had nothing left that he could say to that, so he didn't try. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Tord's waist and pulled him even closer, listening to the other's steady breathing and wondering why he'd fought so hard against this in the first place. He still didn't have an answer when he fell asleep himself, just a certainty that he wasn't going to let go of it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Jerboas need regular affection; if you do not pet them often enough, they will become discontent._

* * *

In the week and a half since they had gone all the way, Tom had noticed a certain change in Tord. The other seemed more relaxed, like some sort of weight had been taken off his shoulders. He still hesitated when he caught his reflection in a mirror, but he no longer tried to avoid them altogether, nor did he try to scrub his scars away as often. He'd become a little more willing to take his hands out of his hoodie pocket, push up his sleeves to help with a task, or wander around in just a tshirt in general. There was a confidence to Tord's actions and words that had finally started to build and blossom.

It had also turned the red hoodie wearing devil into an unrelenting tease.

At first, it has been innocent enough; a stumble here, a trip there. Understandable enough, given the logistics of having sex, more so when it was for the first time. Tord hadn't had many complaints about being stiff and sore the next morning, though it might have simply taken a bit to really set in. But by the fourth time Tord had "lost his balance" and his hands had ended up blatantly groping Tom's crotch, Tom began to suspect there was something more going on.

When that was no longer a reasonable means of gaining attention, Tord started being less subtle. Every time he stretched, which now included letting his hoodie or shirt ride up to show off a good dose of the creamy skin on his stomach, a moan also followed. And not just any moan, but one that made Tom's pants quickly uncomfortable. As if that wasn't enough, there were also the looks that belonged in the bedroom and not the kitchen or livingroom whenever Edd or Matt had their backs turned. Not to mention the interesting things Tord's tongue now did to cutlery.

Over the last several days, however, Tord had taken an even more direct approach. By which Tom meant more bad porn dialogue accompanied by Tord pressing up against him in all sorts of interesting and arousing ways. Most of it was the harmless "doing the pizza/pool boy" type stuff. One of the more memorable instances had occurred while Tom had been doing the dishes; a task that was neither "hard" nor one he needed any "help" with. At least not the kind of help Tord was offering. The only thing that had kept Tom from groaning in secondhand embarrassment had been partially because Tord had managed to work his way between Tom and the sink to grind their hips together and partially because his mouth had been occupied with the way Tord was nibbling on his lower lip.

The one that won the award for worst had been some line Tord had tried to make suggestive about the smell of frying bacon. That had been so absurd, Tom hadn't been able to stop his howling laughter despite the way Tord was moving against him. Tord had quickly disappeared with flaming red cheeks as he always did after Tom turned him down. That time, Tom had actually felt like a jerk about his reaction. He'd gone to apologize for it when he'd found Tord in his own room, flipping through his manga like he was searching for the meaning of life. Or maybe just another line to try.

He could have, and maybe should have, pursued a few of Tord's more obvious invitations just to help cement in that new found confidence. Tord never pushed beyond the awkwardly endearing flirting though, so neither did Tom. If anything, it was probably payback he deserved for the way he always so ruthlessly teased the other.

Tom actually found the floundering seduction techniques to be rather endearing, even for as embarrassing as they tended to be. It was a good change of pace. Sure, Tord was always a more than willing and eager participant, but it was also Tom who always started anything. That Tord was even trying meant a lot. It meant that he was getting more comfortable with their relationship in general. It meant he was a lot more comfortable with himself in specific. It hopefully meant he wouldn't remain nervous, shy, and easily unbalanced forever.

The less thrilling part of Tord's confidence spike was that Tom had to seriously start coming to terms with the fact they couldn't keep their relationship a secret forever. It was only a matter of time before one of them slipped up, and it would probably be Tom if Tord ever stayed around long enough to do more than tease. Matt or Edd _would_ find out eventually--an event that Tom was sure would happen with his pants literally down at the time. Yes, technically speaking, Matt had already called them out on being in a relationship; that was different from actually acknowledging he was right. Somehow. And while Tom didn't think Edd would really care one way or another, an acute sense of panicked dread still gnawed at him when he thought about it.

If Tom was really being honest with himself, the thought of _anyone_ finding out about their relationship made him feel paranoid and defensive in equal measure. It wasn't like he was ashamed of being attached to another guy and he wasn't all that worried about how their friends would react, either. Worst case scenario wasn't much more than having to move out if things went pear shaped. He'd been the outcast before, he could do it again, especially if Tord came with him.

That was also part of the problem. Tord put on a good show, but neither Edd nor Matt were observant enough to understand exactly how flimsy his self-assurance was. Sure, Tord was regaining his former brazenness all the time; the hard-core flirting was proof of that. Uprooting him now, when he'd finally started to move forward with his life, would break something Tom didn't think could be repaired or replaced again. If staving off that inevitability was possible, then Tom would do what was necessary to make that happen. 

And then there was the possessive part of him that didn't want to share anything about his boyfriend. Not the way he kissed, not the little squeaks he made when he liked what they were doing, not even how adorable he was when happy or excited about something. They were things Tom wanted to horde away and keep for himself, even if it was impossible to do as such.

Thus, two plus two equaled a hyper-awareness of his housemates that stopped a lot of things Tom wanted to do before he even got started, no matter how enticing the offer, or the one offering, happened to be.

Then the day came when Tord didn't try his coy act at all. It wasn't that unusual for him to be up and out of bed first. Though somewhat distracted through breakfast, he was still chipper. He'd gradually grown quiet and unfocused as he joined Edd for some multiplayer hack-n-slash video game that seemed more frustrating than fun. The slightly withdrawn behavior happened from time to time still, so Tom didn't think about it too hard. In all honesty, he'd been glad for the reprieve. As much as he enjoyed the regular attention, it had gotten uncomfortable to constantly try and hide the erections each encounter left him with.

When Tord disappeared all together, however, Tom became aware of the fact that he'd been pretty much ignored for the majority of the day. A quick search of the house verified neither Edd nor Matt had seen him recently. That Tord's room was empty as well meant the only place he could be hiding was in Tom's.

Sure enough, the door was closed rather then cracked slightly open to indicate company was welcome. It was still technically his room, he just shared it on occasion with Tord, so Tom didn't think twice about announcing his presence with a knock. He opened the door...

...and was greeted by the sight of Tord splayed on the his bed, pants pushed down just far enough he could comfortably jack-off while--oh holy shit, was he fucking himself with a vibrator or something? Tom couldn't tell exactly what it was from his position at the doorway, only that it was blue and decently sized. Some distant part of his brain wondered when that particular item had been picked up. The rest of him was too fascinated by the way Tord moved, hips bucking up into his own hand, legs attempting to spread further, and all at a pace that suggested he had been doing so long enough to be getting close to climax.

He wondered why Tord had resorted to such things when they'd already done so much. He wanted to walk over and start helping. He couldn't seem to move from the doorway however. Hearing Tord moan his name disconnected his brain enough that Tom could do more than just stand slackjawed in the doorway.

It only took a few long strides to cross the room, the door closing behind Tom with a definite lock click. There was a small whine of confusion when Tord suddenly realized he wasn't the only one on the bed, struggling to curl up even though his body refused to still completely. His grey eyes were completely hazed over when he tried to focus on Tom.

"Don't stop. Keep going," Tom encouraged as he settled in close. "I want to see you finish this show of yours."

A full body shiver ran through Tord even as a hard flush raced through his face. For a minute, it looked like he would flat-out refuse. Then after several sharp and stuttering breaths, Tord managed to do as he'd been asked. He helped kick away the pants Tom pushed further down, slowly opening himself up to be seen in spite of his obvious self-consciousness, and with shaky hands and one last unsure whimper, began again.

For a while, Tord managed to keep things steady. With continuous yet somewhat stilted motions, he rolled into his own grip, then pushed back onto the toy he held. His moans were quieter than anything Tom had heard before; he was half afraid Tord would bite through his lip with the effort to remain that quiet. The occasional shudder interrupted everything, causing renewed and increasing hesitation every time, and the darker red of embarrassment never truly faded from his already flushed skin. But he didn't stop.

He looked absolutely gorgeous laying there, getting himself off; even more so because he was doing so on Tom's bed.

Then his earlier desperation started to catch up with him. The rhythm of stroke and thrust fell out of sync when his hips started to falter, going faster and freezing in random bursts. His breathing turned into frantic gasps rather than aroused pants with each out of order movement. Tord tried to carry on regardless and achieved only partial success, struggling to reach an end that for all appearances was still a ways off. And the harder he tried to get there, the more his body resisted.

Tears started streaking down his cheeks when everything finally locked up. "Jeg er så lei meg. I'm sorry, I tried--I really did, but I can't... It's no--not enough," Tord sobbed as he curled up and rolled away from Tom. Face pressed into the bedding, his arms came up to wrap protectively around himself. His hands gripped his shoulders so tightly that his fingernails started to dig into his skin. 

"Whoa, whoa, hey now. Shhh. It's okay." Confusion still won the top spot for 'things to feel at the moment,' though the biting sting that accompanied Tord cringing when Tom leaned in to offer comfort was a close second. The hiding and flinching was something that hadn't happened for a while now, and Tom had forgotten exactly how much it hurt. Instead of leaving to give Tord space as he had in the past, however, Tom continued holding on as best he could, hoping some of his words were actually soothing and not making the problem worse. "Breathe for me. Try to relax and breathe. I've got you. It's okay. You'll be okay."

The gentle coaxing took time to take effect. Tom kept up a steady stream of quiet words as Tord calmed in somewhat reluctant increments. His breathing slowly went from hyperventilating to unsteady hiccups. The steady flow of hot tears trickled out to the occasional one slipping loose. He never truly relaxed, but he didn't try to hold himself away either when Tom shifted closer. Tord did resist rolling over so that Tom could see his face and flat out refused to look at him even when he was eventually persuaded to, face instead buried into Tom's hoodie sleeve. 

"Hey, come on. Talk to me," he prompted when Tord continued to lay stiff and silent. Tom started threading his fingers through slightly damp hair, brushing away the tear trails with his thumb. "Don't just hide away from whatever it is."

Tord's jaw clenched and relaxed a couple times, eyes finally opening again with another rush of tears. It took a few harsh breaths and a hard swallow before he managed to start speaking. "You once asked why I collected the--what did you call _them?--trashy_ comics and movies despite the awful art and bad dialogue. It is for very much the same reason you stash Smirnoff all over the house; because it helps. Only in my case, it helps..." He paused, a full body stop like he'd run into a wall. His eyes closed again, breathing picking back up as he struggled to continue. "Despite the fact I'm past the age, I've remained _blessed_ with the sex drive of a sixteen year old. Through association and projection with hentai, I get at least some control over the... urges."

Well, that explained a few things. The porn addiction in general, but also the way Tord would sometimes bolt to the bookshelves and hide behind images both animated and still for extended periods of time. The hesitance that still showed up despite the overall willingness to engage in more explicit activities. Why he would often spend a decent portion of the night rubbing against Tom's hip or thigh only to wake up so mortified about it.

What it didn't explain was-- "Why not the real thing? With real people and the like?"

"It makes the problem worse. I don't know why, only that it does." Tord seemed to crumple in on himself a little more. "And now that we have--we are--even more intimate, my comics and movies are...not helping. Like they used to."

It took a second for realization to dawn. "That's why you've been coming on to me like you have this whole last week," Tom said, watching carefully to see if he'd misinterpreted something. Tord only gave a miserable nod. "Why didn't you just tell me you wanted sex?"

His question was met with a weak, wet laugh. "How many times could I ask before you think that's all I expect from you?" Tord challenged. "It already makes so many things awkward. And I--I wanted to seduce you. To show that it wasn't just a warm body I was looking for. I thought it might even be, I don't know... romantic to try.

"But you never returned my advances. No matter what I did, you turned me away, indifferent to my attempts if not outrightly annoyed by them. I've obviously already pushed too far... I didn't want my forwardness to drive you away further." His breath caught, started to heave like something was stopping him from taking in air. "I've tried to take care of it myself, to ignore it, to not bother you with what you do not want, but I want you to touch me so badly I can't stand it. Nothing else has made it go away." Hot tears started to soak into the sleeve Tord continued to hide in. "Please, Tom. You don't have to do anything more than hold me. Just hold me until I can get this to go away and I'll try harder to not trouble you again..."

Tom froze as true understanding of how badly he'd just screwed up sank in.

Pressing his face into Tord's hair, Tom gathered the other closer. "No. No, don't say things like that. I'm sorry. Holy flying fuck, I'm sorry I'm such an idiot. I told you to not be afraid to touch me, to ask when you wanted me to touch you, and then I just ignored you when you tried either. I never meant to push you away like that; I didn't mean that all. I thought--"

He didn't know why, but touch seemed vastly more important to Tord than just about anything else when it came to their relationship. He always sought it when they were together; nuzzling into Tom's shoulder when they were cuddled up in bed, brushing close as they walked somewhere, latching on to whatever he could when they were making out, and always,  _always,_  cuddling up close after sex. Tord was even willing to just hold a sleeve if something more wasn't possible at the time, it was that significant to him.

And Tom had purposefully avoided touching him during the attempted seductions. Perhaps even more so when Tord had moved from implications to straight up foreplay. He'd always left his hands in his pockets, or on the table, or couch, or whatever was close by when Tord had come on to him. In fact, he'd done his best not to give any indication of how close he'd really been to just pressing Tord against the nearest solid surface and screwing him until they were both too exhausted to move. Misconceptions about the act aside, it had really just been the paranoia of getting caught that had ever stopped Tom from returning those advances. He'd been so wrapped up in the idea that he was somehow protecting Tord by doing so that it had never crossed his mind how Tord would interpret his actions, or rather, the lack thereof.

Talk about a damned poor excuse for taking away what little confidence his already severely shy boyfriend had regained.

He shook his head and hugged Tord tighter. "It doesn't matter what I thought. You shouldn't feel like you can't tell me something because you think I'll be uninterested. That you're a bother. You shouldn't feel like you can't touch me or have me touch you when you want or need it. I'm so sorry it took me this long to figure it out how much I've been hurting you."

This time, Tord didn't resisted when Tom pulled his face up enough to rest their foreheads together, fingers trying to wipe away the tears that had come back. "Don't let me do this again. Please. Whatever it takes, don't let me get away with doing this to you. I don't want you to hurt like this. Especially when I'm being denser than an unripe pineapple in a freezer."

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Tord was returning the embrace with a surprising amount of strength. He held on like Tom was his last lifeline, like he was afraid it would disappear without notice. It made it easy to feel each shudder and quiet sob that continued to escape. But before Tom could start apologizing all over again, Tord surged up, kissing him hard enough that noses got smooshed and teeth clicked together. This time, Tom didn't refuse the desire to kiss back, hot and heavy and as passionate as it was given.

"Fuck, I don't deserve you," he breathed when they finally parted for air. "What did I ever do to deserve having you in my life like this?"

"Du får meg til å føle at jeg er her. Som jeg er ekte." Anxious fingers touched Tom's face, gingerly tracing across his cheek. "You have been so kind to me, so patient. Even after I've taken up so much of your time and space, you've still welcomed me in. Let me stay close. Offered me protection from the horrors my mind creates when I sleep... You could have so easily kept me away or ignored me entirely, but you haven't.

"You've done so much, given me so much; hvorda kan jeg ikke være forelsket i deg? How can I want to be somewhere else?" 

Tom covered Tord's hand with his own, turning to kiss his palm. "That seems like an unfair trade, considering how I keep doing stupid things like this."

"If nothing else, you've always tried to make amends with me when something goes wrong. That alone means more than you realize. And I guess you are just lucky," Tord continued with a shaky though still lightly teasing smile, "that I also happen to like the taste of pineapple."

The jab earned the snort it deserved, but Tom returned the smile with a shake of his head anyway. Even he had to admit he'd totally had that coming. Instead of returning the jab, however, he leaned down and kissed Tord again.

This time it was more loving than desperate no matter how impassioned it got. 

With one last heavy swipe of his tongue, Tom regretfully pulled back. "Do you still want to try?" he asked, continuing to brush kisses across his boyfriend's face. "Or would you rather relax, maybe go find Edd and Matt?"

Tord shifted with a slight wince and a lot of uncertainty. "...I do want, but I don't--"

"I can help you," Tom interrupted quietly. "I can touch and talk to you. I can just hold you. Or we can do something else entirely. Whatever you want. Whatever feels best for you."

"...all of it," Tord all but whispered, a quiver in the hand that curled into Tom's shirt. "Please. Touch, hold, talk--I want all of it."

"Shhh, it's okay. You can have all of it." Tom pressed a series of small kisses to Tord's jaw. "We'll go slow. No worries. No rush. Just you feeling good. I want you to feel so good right now..."

He started with pulling Tord into the softest kiss Tom had ever given. A tiny sound escaped Tord as he returned it easily. Tom took his time to make sure their kiss was as thorough as it was easy, never letting it escalate beyond the gentle press of their mouths with the occasional break to breathe. It was impossible to say how long it continued. Or rather, how long it would have continued if a small lick to his bottom lip hadn't caused Tord to moan. That only encouraged Tom to gradually increased the intensity rather than move on, lazily exploring Tord's mouth and encouraging him to do the same. By the time Tom shifted to the favored spot on his neck, Tord was breathing hard and trembling. 

"You looked so hot, spread out on my bed, taking that thing so easily while thrusting into your own hand when I walked in on you earlier," Tom hummed, enjoying the shiver that took over Tord as he spoke. He started tracing his fingers over Tord's chest and stomach. "I wanted to stand there and watch you as much as I wanted to come in and help you; I still want to do both. I want to help you finish what you started. I want to see that beautiful face you make when you love what's happening to you. I want to be up close and personal when you touch yourself while I fuck you with this toy you so thoughtfully got in my colour."

Tom smiled at the deep groan that his words produced, pleased with his work so far. He went back to his languid but meticulous attention to Tord's neck as he let his hand roam. The movement was mostly nonsensical. Sometimes it was his whole hand skimming across the soft skin. Sometimes it was only his fingertips drawing meaningless patterns. Many times, his fingers stopped to rub and play with the soft spot where Tord's hip and thigh met. That in particular earned him an array of wavering moans that made Tord twist, his back bowing as he did his best to open himself up to more of the teasing touch. When Tom let his teeth graze the edge of the ear still in front of him, he was graced with an even louder moan.

Between the slow movements of Tom's lips and randomness of his fingers, it didn't take long to build Tord back up to his previous fervent pitch. He moved restlessly under Tom's touch, trying to get it to go further, go faster, do more than leave goosebumps in their wake. The attention left him so sensitive that all Tom had to do was breathe in his ear to make him arch up with a sharp inhale. Tord whimpered when Tom's hand stopped low on his stomach. "Do you still want to do this?"

"Nnngh...yes." Tord lifted his hips, trying to get Tom's hand to slide lower. "Please yes."

"Think you're still relaxed enough? Or do you want me to help open you up again?"

"I think so. It hasn't been that long since..."

"Okay. Tell me if something doesn't feel right." Tord nodded, nerves dancing behind his eyes. 

From there, it took only a little prompting to get both of them situated; Tord once more fully laid out on his back with Tom pressed firmly against his side, propped up on one arm that also curled under Tord's shoulders but still far enough down to still accommodate the reach needed by the other arm.

Tom pulled him back into a slow kiss, patiently waiting until those nerves settled. By the time they parted for air, all the shyness and trepidation had disappeared as well. It was worth the sidetrack when a slight hitch in Tord's breathing appeared, only to be released as a low, and incredibly erotic, moan as Tom started to move the toy, trying to get a feel for the thing. One end was a wide, flat flare obviously meant to keep the toy from disappearing. From it rose a smooth shaft that was thick enough to be impressive but could still comfortably fit in hand. That then gradually tapered out further into what looked like a notably larger bulb on the other end. All of it was a slightly pearlescent blue that matched Tom's trademark colour.

Tom watched with rapt attention as grey eyes slit and glazed over, a rosy flush finally replacing the hard red of embarrassment. Tord's eyes rolled completely closed once the toy was fully seated again, pressing his head into the pillow to weakly arch his back so that his hips could open up more.

And then Tord just... _melted_ was probably the best word for it. His whole body went lax, his breathing steadied out into soft pants, and his eyes opened back up to that half-lidded stage that meant he was still coherent enough to recognize everything that was happening, but otherwise floating in a haze of pleasure. That look more than any other made Tom's heart thump hard even as the stab of lust reminded him that clothes were a thing he really didn't need to be wearing right now.

It only got better when Tom began a more decisive pull back. Tord bit his lip to try and stifle the drawn out groan that came with it. One hand began kneading at the bedding beneath him while the other sought and found Tom's hip. He shifted in an effort to spread his legs wider; Tom helped by nudging a knee under Tord's, guiding the limb up and over his own. Each breath got heavier and heavier until Tord whined at the stretch caused by the end still inside him. It was probably mean, but Tom kept pulling until it seemed like the whole thing would slip free before letting the natural resistance of Tord's muscles draw it back in. The slight sigh of relief was quickly replaced by a sharp gasp when Tom aided the movement, pushing it back in slightly faster than it would have gone otherwise.

With that, the pace was set; a little faster than the natural pull and release of Tord's body, but much slower than he'd been taking himself earlier. Tord fell into the rhythm easily with small movements in his hips to help with the slide out and little satisfied noises at the end of each breath when it was fully in. Tom waited until Tord had evened out again before leaning in close.

"I know you think that sex drive of yours is an inconvenience, but I think we just haven't been taking care of it properly." Tom smiled at the stutter in Tord's breathing and movement. He leaned in closer still so his lips could brush over the ear he was purring in. "I can roll over in the morning and slide into you while you're still warm and relaxed from the night before. Let you wake up to me moving slow and deep inside you. Nothing fast, nothing hard or heavy. Just you and me leisurely moving against each other until we can't help but cum."

The most delightful shiver raced through Tord, making his hands spasm and clench. It was the quick inhale that prompted Tom to continue, though. "I can push you up against the kitchen counter after lunch. Just grind against you from behind, maybe give that wonderful tongue of yours something to do with a couple fingers. Tease you until you can barely stand it, until it only takes a couple strokes of my hand to make you come undone. Then I'll keep moving against you until I do, too."

Tord whined, squirming in an active effort to make Tom go faster with little success. Tom sped his pace up just enough to cause a shift in Tord's breathing, moving it from short gasps to heavy pants, but not actually fulfilling the desire being displayed. " _Tom~_ "

"I'm going to settle between your legs sometime in the late afternoon, probably while you're out on the couch playing one of those gory video games you like so much, and just take my time exploring every centimeter of your inner thighs."

Tord grit his teeth, though it did almost nothing to stifle the groan that welled up around them.

"Once I'm done there, I'm going to peel your pants down just enough to reach those wonderfully sensitive spots along your hips and love them until you have bruises."

" _Oh god, please Tom..._ "

"And when I finally go down on you, I'm going to pin you down because I want to go nice and slow so that you can feel everything, from how my tongue wraps around you to how far I can get you down my throat time and time again.

"But none of that's comparable to what I want to do with you once the sun goes down."

The movement of Tord's hips wavered as the hand that had been white knuckling the blankets came up to start stroking himself. Tom started to thrust harder in response.

"I want to tie you up. Spread you out on the bed, hands above your head and legs held open and just touch you. Touch and kiss everything from your toes to your fingertips until all I have to do is ask you to cum for me and you do.

"I want to tie you down, too. Give you something to ride against, but only a little, just enough to make you want more without it ever being enough. Then watch you work yourself up to a frenzy on it while you watch me get off to watching you.

"I want you in my lap with me buried inside you. Make you stay still while I touch and stroke you. Let you ride against me however you wish. Hold you close and just roll into you. Fuck you hard enough you bounce. Whatever it takes to make you scream for me."

Tom barely finished the last of his sentence before Tord came. There wasn't a scream associated with the action, but the sound he did make was still pretty damn satisfying to hear. Especially when said noise continued as Tord kept moving despite the more physical end of his orgasm. Tom had slowed down the hard and quick thrusts he'd escalated to; what he had considered a kindness only seemed to make the other more desperate. Tord was still thrusting into his now still hand even as he ground against the toy inside him like he was searching for something more. It only took Tom a few seconds to understand and pick the pace up again. Tord's mouth opened in a soundless cry as he bucked and writhed through the overstimulation until his entire body locked up once more. There was a sharp gasp when the toy was fully seated one last time and left that way. Tord remained as tense as a piano string for a couple long heartbeats before finally collapsing into a twitching, panting puddle.

There was a pronounced and persistent ache between his own legs that Tom ignored in favour of brushing his fingers gently across Tord's cheek, lightly tracing the scars there as much as he simply stroked the unmarred skin. Tord's breathing gradually evened out until with one last heaving sigh, his eyes slowly opened again, hazy but aware once more.

"God, you're so beautiful," Tom breathed, leaning in to catch bruised lips with his own before Tord could do more than look towards him. With a contented sigh, the kiss was returned, as soft and slow as it was given. Somehow, they managed to stay in the realm of loving rather than heated, and when they pulled apart to breath, all Tord did was sleepily snuggle in closer to Tom. They stayed like that for a long while, Tom running his fingers tenderly across Tord's skin while Tord pressed equally tender kisses to Tom's skin between stretches of light dozing.

Though reluctant to move apart and break the serene stillness that had settled around them, they did when numb fingers and uncomfortable weight became too much. Tord hissed in quiet pain when Tom pulled the toy free. Tom groaned when pins and needles filled his forearm and hand. It took both of them pushing at the other to actually get back to their feet. After getting cleaned up and redressed, they collapsed back into the bed, wrapped back up in each other's arms and drowsing away.

They hadn't been there long before Tom stopped Tord's hand from it's deliberate slide towards the hard-on he still sported.

"You don't want...?" Tord asked, confusion almost covering the uncertainty in his voice.

"Hmmm, yeah, I want." Tom nuzzled a kiss to the other's forehead. He guided Tord's hand to instead rest around his waist. "But not right now. You can make it up to me later tonight."

Tord relaxed and nuzzled back. "I can do that. Anything you want."

Tom made a vaguely acknowledging noise, pulling Tord tighter against him and idly stroking his back. Tord in turn responded with a tired yet appeased murmur. They both continued to nuzzle and pet until sleep finally stilled them both, the last thought on Tom's mind being how to tell Tord he was serious about everything he'd just said he wanted to do.


End file.
